Made Greatness
by TheSwingOfThings
Summary: Some pokemon are born rare. Others are made that way.


He hadn't been expecting a birthday present, money had been tight since his dad's construction company had decided to outsource to immigrant labor. But his parents had seen how he lingered by the bars trying to catch a glimpse of the battle on tv as he walked home from school, and how he spent weekends at the arena, watching newbies and veterans alike tear the field to shreds with a bone rush or a frenzy plant.

But there it was, a round present wrapped in blue paper and tied with a yellow bow. No need to wonder what it was. In his glee, he tore off the paper and held the gleaming sphere up to show his parents. And with a flash of a smile, he was opening the door as fast as his fingers could fumble with the lock, and bolting down the street like a stantler in spring time.

He pelted down the sidewalk, scanning the streetside for potential partners. Caterpie and rattata were always around, maybe he could catch something rarer. He saw a couple of sandshrew on wreaking havoc on his neighbor's petunias, and figured it was best to avoid a pokemon with such horticidal tendencies. There might have been a shroomish nearby, and while he thought they had some of the ugliest mugs he'd ever seen, the breloom they evolved into were adorable and very strong.

A flutter of wings caught his eye, and he noticed a little pidgey landing on the ground in front of him and peck at the ground in search of worms. He tensed his muscles and brought his feet to a halt a few feet away. The pidgey looked at him, and he could see its legs tightening under their guard feathers, but it didn't leave.

Pidgey were common, he thought as he looked at the little bird. They were more common than common, they were more common than rattata, they deserved their own word for how common they were. But their final form, the graceful, gigantic pidgeot, was almost never seen in the wild. Most wild pidgey would die wild pidgey, eaten by a feral pokemon or hunted for food by humans. But those that were caught to be trained could grow strong with a human protecting them. And when a pidgey grew strong, it grew into a pidgeotto and finally, into a pidgeot.

Pidgeot weren't common. Only a few trainers managed to raise them, since it took years to train them to such gargantuan strength. But those who did had a god on their sides, a titan of storms with a crest like a lightning bolt. And it listened with more loyalty than most other pokemon of its caliber would. It listened because, when it was a pidgey and the odds were a million to one that it would ever grow beyond a flying rattata, someone picked it. And then they picked it again, and again, and showed their trust by using the bird against other trainers' pokemon, which were almost always rarer, but not always stronger. When it lost against pikachu or electabuzz the trainer didn't release it, and when it fell to the ground with ice weighing its wings, its trainer would return it and hurry to get it healed.

By constantly putting effort into a pokemon some saw as dispensable, those people proved to be a rarity, and their pokemon grew to reflect it. They were often among the strongest trainers, those pidgeot tamers, and their birds were rarely the weakest on their team. One of them had even become the champion recently, and his pidgeot had accompanied him to the winner's podium. When asked how he'd achieved his success, he'd looked at the behemoth bird next to him, and said that they'd made each other great.

The boy stared at the pidgey, who was still in front of him. Its legs were no longer tense, and it was pecking at the ground again, oblivious to his presence. He raised the hand with the pokeball in it. The pidgey didn't move. He gingerly took a step forward, his hand winding back for a throw. The pidgey didn't move. He brought his hand forward and tossed the pokeball at the pidgey, it looked up at him before dissipating into laser light. The pokeball fell to the ground with its new weight. Rustle. Rustle. Click.

Smiling, the boy picked up the ball. His thumb pressed the button in the center, releasing the pidgey onto the ground before him. He bent down until he was kneeling in front of it, and offered his hand.

_Hi,_ he said, _I'm Antony, and I'm your new trainer. I'm not very good yet, since I've never had a pokemon before, but I think you and I will be an unstoppable team. Let's make each other great._


End file.
